


Stress and Sewing (Julian x Fan Apprentice)

by Nyooom



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Oneshot, Post Upright End, The Arcana Oneshot, Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyooom/pseuds/Nyooom
Summary: With the 2nd annual Masquerade fast approaching, Vesuvians across the city are flooding Harlow with alteration work for their costumes. Usually, she can handle the pressure, but this time, it's become too much for her to shoulder on her own.





	Stress and Sewing (Julian x Fan Apprentice)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! First of all, thank you for clicking on this writing! Second, I just want to point out that this writing revolves around Julian and my OC for his route, Harlow. That doesn't mean you can't insert yourself into it, but I wrote it with Harlow in mind. It also takes place post-Upright End, just to clear up the whole Masquerade thing. Alright, that's it! Enjoy!

Being a seamstress wasn’t all that hard, at least to Harlow. Her mother had taught her to sew when she was a child, and she had fallen in love with the art of using a needle, thread, and fabric to create a beautiful masterpiece she could actually wear. But some days were better than others. Today was one of her lesser days on the scale of good and bad. Customers had been rougher on her than normal, demanding more and more of her time and patience, which she usually had an abundance of, but with the 2nd annual Masquerade coming up, people were getting pushy.

Her shoulders sagged as she flipped the sign of her tiny shop to  _ close  _ behind her final customers, and she pressed her forehead to the heavy wooden door. Another day done, another 10 masquerade outfits to alter, fix, or sew. The thought had her stomach twisting into knots. 

One week was all she had. Julian had urged her to come to the event, and after days of his unabashed begging and pleading from his end, she finally caved. But, with all of the customers banging her door down to work on  _ their _ costumes, she hadn’t had any time to work on  _ her _ costume.

With a light groan, she lifted her forehead from the door and slowly turned towards her shop. Her counter space was filled with paperwork, fabric samples, and general debris that had been left behind between customers. To the right, where the customers stood while she pinned and assessed the garments while on the customer, was the only generally clean space, as she tried to keep that part of the shop as tidy as possible. Customers usually brought a friend or lover for a second opinion on what needs to be done, so she tried her best to keep it as debris-free as she can.

She knew there was more of a mess in the back room, where she stashed her current projects, both personal and business-related. It was mostly the latter, much to her disappointment. Oh, how she would love to just sit down and sew something just because she wanted to!

Her feet felt like lead as she walked over to the counter and began collecting the fabric scraps and debris from the counterspace, tossing the garbage into a small wastebasket beneath the counter. Right beside that was a large box filled with different fabric samples she used when a customer wanted a custom outfit. She crouched down and gripped the box, dragging it out into the open and lifting the cardboard lid. As she began slotting the squares of sample fabric away into their rightful homes, she heard the door open and shut.

“Harlow?”

She knew that voice. “Down here!” She raised a hand up over the counter and waggled her fingers, her other hand busy sorting the fabric. Warm, familiar hands clasped around hers and a shadow fell over her body as Julian leaned across the wood, peering down at the box she was currently rifling through. 

“There you are, darling. Did you miss me?” Her fingers twitched between his palms as she tried to squeeze his hands. 

“Terribly so. I’m glad you’re here.” She stood up, Julian straightening up with her movement. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek as she continued, “Would you mind helping me clean up a bit? I haven’t had any chance to all day, and there’s so much to do.” Julian’s face suggested he didn’t want to, but he nodded anyways. 

“Of course. Anything for you.” 

A grateful smile spread across her lips as she pried her hand away from his and wiped it on her apron-front. The theatrical frown that pulled his lips down at her actions made her giggle. “What? My hand got sweaty.”

The pair settled into a comfortable silence as the worked on cleaning the front of the store. Julian busied himself with clearing up the remaining debris on the counter while Harlow finished sorting the remaining fabric squares back into their homes before joining him. Once that was done, she disappeared in the back to retrieve the broom. Except, the broom wasn’t in it’s usual spot in the tiny closet.

“Where did I put it?” She grumbled, folding her arms across her chest as she surveyed the tiny backroom. It could have been anywhere; she usually tried to put it back in it’s home when she finished, but when the shop gets busy, there typically isn’t time to keep everything orderly.

“What’s with the long face?” The curtain covering the entryway parted as Julian ducked inside. In his hands: the broom and dustpan. 

She shook her head in disbelief. “Where did you find that? I was just looking for it.” He quirked an eyebrow.

“In… the front of the store? Where you left it last night after Malak knocked over the glass jar?” 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” She huffed, grumbling to herself as she paced over to the rack filled with all of her projects. Twenty-four alterations in total, one week to get them done. Not to mention she still had her costume, which Julian has been bugging her to see. 

“Hey, hey, Harlow. Are you alright? Really alright?” Hands gently gripped her shoulder and spun her around. She had to crane her neck to look up into Julian’s concerned eyes. “You seem really,  _ really _ stressed, which isn’t like you.”

She bit her lip, eyes darting between the exit and his eyes. Typically, she would love to confide in him about her work issues, but thinking about work made her think about the unfinished costume she had yet to finish.

“I…” Her eyes closed, then squeezed shut in an attempt to corral the stress-filled tears threatening to spill over. “I-I’m okay.”

“Nonsense.” Any sign of fun and games was long gone as Julian cleared off an area for the two of them to sit down. Harlow didn’t protest as he guided her into his lap, and curled into his chest when he wrapped his arms securely around her. “This can’t be just about a silly broom. What’s going on?”

She had almost forgotten about the broom. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “No, it’s not just about the broom. It’s  _ everything _ , Julian. I…” She closed her mouth, then opened it again to continue, but nothing came out. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.  _ I’m in over my head. I shouldered too much.  _

_ I’m a failure. _

“You’re what, darling?” His hands gently rubbed up and down Harlow’s back, a comforting gesture that made her want to cry all the more. 

“I… I can’t keep up with all of the work that’s coming. The masquerade is in a week, Julian.  _ One week. _ I have twenty-four alterations and repairs to do in that timeframe, as well as finishing my own costume.” She pressed the top of her head into his collarbone and swiped at her face, trying to catch the rogue tears that got to her cheek, but they kept coming faster and faster, until she was hiccuping and sobbing into Julian’s chest. “I-I feel like a failure. Mom would be so disappointed in me.”

“No.” His hands stopped rubbing her back to gently pull her away from his chest so he could look at her face. She protested weakly, trying to remain hidden so he didn’t have to see her looking like such a mess, but he was stronger. One hand cupped her chin while the other set to work wiping the tears from her face. “Listen to me, Harlow. You are one of the most talented seamstresses in all of Vesuvia, and are one of the most hardworking people I know. You are most definitely not a failure. Why do you think all of these people are coming to you of all the other seamstresses in Vesuvia?”

She sniffled, cheeks heating up as Julian smiled so kindly at her, so patiently and so lovingly. “You’ve run yourself ragged, my love. You didn’t fail. You just need to regroup and take things one step at a time. You want to know how I know that?” She cocked her head slightly in response. “ _ You _ taught me that. Take your own advice and take things one step at a time. Take care of your alterations that are on hand right now, then worry about others.” 

A kind smile spread across his lips as he leaned down, kissing her forehead first, then each cheek, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She kissed him back, her eyes sliding shut as his hands cupped her damp cheeks. Now, the tears falling down her face and over Julian’s knuckles weren’t that of defeat; they were tears from the overwhelming amount of love she felt for the man kissing her.

“Why do you love me? I’m such a mess, Ilya.”

“I could ask you the same thing, my love.” He kissed her again, lightly yet so sweetly it made her crave more. “Are you feeling better? Or-” A dangerous smirk pulled at his lips, “do you need more encouragement?”

A hot blush spread across her face as she shook her head. “N-not now, Ilya. I do feel better though. Thank you. I love you.”

The flush that spread across his cheeks was enough to blow the rest of the storm clouds shrouding her away. She smiled.

“I, I love you too, Harlow. More than you’ll ever know.” She gave him one final kiss before sliding off his lap, a bit self-conscious of her blotchy, damp face. She swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks and sniffed once before turning back to the mess in front of her, now with new eyes. Determination flooded her as she glanced at the rack. Most, if not all of the dresses and suits were just a quick alteration, which she has done time after time. 

Simple. She could do this.

“Julian, would you mind finishing up the front? I’m going to get started on some of the alterations so I can work on my costume.”

The look of sadness and despair that crossed his face made her giggle. “Can we just keep having heart-to-hearts and save the cleaning for later?”

She shot him a faux annoyed look. “And do the cleaning when?”

“...later?”

“Wrong.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Please, Ilya? I do want to get upstairs and cuddle you sometime tonight…”

“Fine, fine! This must be what true love is if I’m actually, willingly cleaning.”

He blew her a kiss, grabbed the discarded broom and dustpan, and disappeared into the front of the shop, the purple curtain swishing behind him. She could hear him humming to himself as he set to work. 

God, did she love him.

With a shake of her head, she turned to the rack of costumes that needed fixing. All of the garments were labelled with their owner’s information and the work that was needed to be done. She had to admit, she adored a few of them, and envied the lucky ladies and gentlemen that got to wear them. Her personal favorite was a beautiful crimson dress with elaborate sequins and embroidery lining the bust and neckline. It was paired with elbow-length matching gloves and a beautiful fox mask, both of which the owner of the dress kept with her when she left the dress. 

That dress, despite the beauty of it, was the one that had been waiting the longest for her to alter. She fingered the layers of fabric for a moment, feeling the fine silk slip over her skin, before grabbing it off the rack and clearing a spot at her work desk and sitting. She plucked the paper with the required fixes from the hangar and familiarized herself with the fabric once again. Just a simple shortening of the dress. She could do that.

With Julian’s humming in the background and a fresh set of eyes in the situation, she grabbed her sharpest blade and snipped into the fabric.


End file.
